


The Rose Chronicles

by maryfic



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe, BDSM, Consensual Violence, Cussing, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Het and Slash, M/M, Multi, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Pregnancy, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 01:03:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1409242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maryfic/pseuds/maryfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prophecy time. Willow, Spike, Angelus, and Faith are the major parties involved. Willow gets pregnant by someone that might not be Spike. Angelus is an asshole. Faith is released from prison and celebrates her new-found freedom in some very…Faith-like ways.  God, I love pregnant Willow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. “No…no WAY is Faith coming here…right?”

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Laure Alexander (ladyoneill)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoneill/gifts).



> The club "Dashwoods" DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. It came from the wondrous mind of Laure Alexander, who inspired this story all the way back when I first read The Erotic Adventures of Willow and Spike. So this is for her, in a long time coming, roundabout sort of way. The phrase "morass of pain" is also hers.

_**Sunnydale, California** _

_**October 14th 2004** _

_**Thursday** _

  
Xander was fumbling for his keys when the door to the townhouse he and his lover shared opened and Oz pulled him inside and pressed him up against the suddenly closed door. The shorter man looked up at Xander and growled. 

  
“You’ve been at work forever.” 

  
Xander grinned and glanced at the Felix the Cat clock on the wall, tail acting as a pendulum, counting out the minutes of their lives. “Only eight hours. You’re just horny.” He leaned down and kissed his partner, then slid around him. “Unfortunately, we have to be at Buffy’s in five minutes. It’ll have to wait.” 

  
“Unless we hurry.” Oz replied with a tricksy grin, grabbing Xander’s hand and dragging him down the hall to the bedroom. The door slammed with an echoing thud a moment later. 

  
 _ring ring_

  
“Hi, you’ve gotten the machine of Xander and Oz. If we haven’t answered the phone, there’s probably a really good reason for it, so just leave a message and when we’re done having – *Oz!* -- uh, doing what we’re doing, we’ll call you back.” *BEEP* 

  
“Alexander Harris! You are so dead if you and Oz are not here in FIVE minutes! Five, do you understand me? Not fifteen, not fifty, FIVE.” *SLAM*

  
Xander grimaced at Willow’s angry message. It must really be important for her to be that angry. They were only…oh shit. Half an hour late. Uh-oh.

“OZ! Car, NOW! I’d like to keep my balls, please!”

  
He opened the front door and locked it automatically before stepping out onto the mini-porch, and Oz rushed out and pulled it shut. “You’re telling me, mister. I own those balls.” With a naughty look, Oz ran his hand down the front of Xander’s khakis and took off for the Sonata parked at the curb. 

  
Xander swore under his breath and followed. 

  
****

  
Willow paced anxiously in the kitchen of the Summers’ home. Spike leaned up against the sink and just watched her calmly. He knew his mate well enough to know that when she got in a mood like this, it was wise just to let the words tumble out until there weren’t any more. 

  
“How could Giles do this to him? He can’t bring her here, not now, not when Xander’s so happy with Oz, and the business is going so well. He is so insensitive! Xander told him what Faith did, and what happened that night. She tried to kill him! It was mind and body rape, and now he’s expecting everything to be just hunky-dory? No way in hell.” 

  
She stopped suddenly, and looked at Spike. “You don’t think she’s gonna…he wouldn’t just bring her here with no warning…would he? I’m gonna go ask him. GILES!” Willow strode into the living room, but before she could voice her question, there was a knock at the door and Xander stuck his head inside. 

  
“Uh, Will? Is it okay to come in?” he asked with a cautious grin. 

  
“Xander!” the look of relief on Willow’s face was obviously misinterpreted by Xander, and he swept her up in a huge bear hug. She was a little breathless when her feet hit the floor again. 

  
Buffy grinned at the two of them, and turned to Oz, sitting next to her on the couch. “Canapé?” she asked cheekily. “They’re actually little wieners in dough. Something in a blanket. I forget. Giles made them.” 

  
Oz laughed and ate one. “Pigs in a blanket?” 

  
“That’s it. So…did Xander come home late from work? Or did he just come?” she lowered her voice and smiled. 

  
“Both,” Oz replied, sotto voice, and looked at Giles. “Did you get the copy of the White Album yet?” he asked, in a normal tone. 

  
“Actually, yes. It arrived this morning.” the older man said. “You can come upstairs and listen to it…after the meeting. We have something vital to discuss.” 

  
“Don’t we always,” Buffy quipped with a smirk. Giles shot her a glare, and she raised her hands in defeat. “Sorry. Continue.” 

  
Willow and Spike settled into the loveseat, Oz moved to the armchair with Xander at his feet, and Giles sat down next to Buffy and laid a large, crumbly, old book on the coffee table. 

  
“We aren’t expecting any more visitors, ARE we, Giles.” Willow asked archly. 

  
“Hm?” Giles looked at Willow, then read her expression correctly and gulped. No need to anger the powerful witch more than he had already. “Oh, no. Not tonight.” 

  
“Good.” The witch in question, looking more than a little relieved, settled back against Spike and waited for him to begin. 

  
“So, there are going to be visitors?” Xander asked. 

  
“Oh, um. Yes. Angel and er, Faith.” Giles said, not looking at Xander, but knowing what his face looked like just the same. 

  
He didn’t say anything, at first. He blanched and looked sick for a moment, and his shoulders tensed up as if he were awaiting another blow. Then, “No. No WAY is Faith coming here….right?”

  
Oz grimaced and adjusted his position to run his hands over Xander’s neck. 

  
“What? No way, Giles.” Buffy interjected. “She’s still in prison, hello, murderous criminal remember?” 

  
“Buffy I--” Giles began, but was interrupted by Xander’s swift exit from the room. Oz followed, and moments later, sounds of retching and soothing noises came from the downstairs bathroom. 

  
“Dammit.” Giles muttered, removing his glasses and wiping them avidly. “I didn’t think-”

  
“Yeah, that’s right, Giles. You didn’t think. You didn’t think how even hearing her name would affect him, let alone her actually coming here. You just didn’t fucking think.” Willow spat angrily. Spike looked down at her, not really amazed at the anger, but that she would direct it at Giles. 

  
“Now wait just one second here, pet. Giles said there was a reason for all this.” 

  
“Well, as far as I can see, there is no reason good enough to put Xander through this.” 

  
“What if I said you were a part of it, Willow?” Giles murmured, his voice tired, wary, and a little sad at the thought of the news he was about to impart to them all. 

  
That sentence broke into Willow’s tirade enough for her to look at the man. “Are you planning on saying that, Giles?” she asked slowly. 

  
“I am.” Whatever he was going to add to that was delayed by Xander coming back into the living room and sinking onto the floor. He had a little bit of color back, but was still green around the gills. Oz followed, and climbed over him and settled back in the chair, his hands automatically going to his lover’s neck. 

  
“Are you alright, Xander?” Giles asked. 

  
Xander looked up at him incredulously, but his words were a calm “I will be, I think.” 

  
“Then we can continue. I have found a prophecy--”

  
“Oh shit.” Buffy cut in. “I’m going to die again, aren’t I?” 

  
“No,” Giles said forcefully, and glared again, though it did him little good. Buffy, however, sat back and waited for him to continue, which he did; albeit reluctantly. “It refers specifically to four…individuals. I believe the four are Willow, Spike, Angel, and Faith. A witch, a dark slayer, a vampire and a chosen one. I’m not entirely clear on who the chosen one is, but it states that all four will be needed to defeat a great evil, and the witch and the chosen one will bring forth a fifth figure greater than all four combined to bind the evil into the earth. Permanently. At least, I believe that is what it says. The prophecy was translated rather badly from ancient Sumerian to Latin to Hebrew and back to Latin. It was quite confusing, not to mention complicated.” 

  
Dead silence met his words, and as he met each of his children’s, as he’d come to think of them, eyes; he saw all the conflicting emotions he’d been feeling for the past week reflected in their eyes. Even Spike’s, as his eyes fell on the blond vampire. . 

  
“Obviously, I’m the chosen one,” Spike finally said. “Cause there is no way the poof is going to ‘bring forth’ anything with my mate.” Willow smacked him, and he said “What? He’s not touching you, Red.” 

  
“Wait a minute, Giles.” Buffy said. “How are you planning on getting Faith out of jail?” 

  
“I’ve asked Angel to pull some strings at Wolfram and Hart. Now, there is one more…small complication.” 

  
“It gets worse?” Xander asked, the shock in his expression very evident in his words. 

  
“Erm,” Giles said, and had the grace to blush. “Angel will not have his soul for the duration.” 

  
“What?” Buffy shrieked. “That is never going to work, Giles. Angelus is a monster. Worse than Spike, even.” 

  
“Hey! Still in the room, Slayer.” 

  
“Bite me.” 

  
“You’d love it.” 

  
“CHILDREN!” Giles shouted. Buffy and Spike closed their mouths and shot hate-filled looks at each other. And at least half of it was real. “It will work. And if not, we find another way to defeat the prophecy. And Angel keeps his soul.” 

  
“So, um. When are they going to be here, Giles.” It wasn’t a question, more of a flat acceptance of fact from the heart of the ‘Scoobies’. 

  
“A week from today, Xander.” Giles closed his eyes and asked the gods to help Xander through the next month or so, and Oz, to be able to give Xander extra portions of the love that held their relationship together. 

  
“God DAMMIT,” Buffy muttered, rising from the couch. She stalked over to the door and snatched her coat from the staircase rail. “I’m gonna patrol. Who’s coming with me?” 

  
Surprisingly, or maybe not, Spike jumped to go with her. He kissed Willow. “Be home in a couple of hours, luv.” Willow nodded, her mind clearly on Giles’ news. The two blondes left, Buffy slamming the door extra hard behind her. 

  
Giles picked up the book and raised an eyebrow at Oz, who glanced down at Xander. “Are you gonna be ok, babe? I’m gonna go check out Giles’ new album.” He bent down and whispered in his partner’s ear. “Go talk to Willow. I love you.” 

  
Oz followed Giles up the stairs and as they moved out of sight, Willow slid off the loveseat and scooted over next to Xander, laying her head on his shoulder. She could feel him shaking, and the fine trembling of his hands made her reach over and take one in both of hers, worrying the skin along the knuckles. 

  
“Xan,” she started, then he turned to her, fear etched along his features. 

  
“I can’t take it, Willow, I just can’t do it. She almost killed me when we…well, when she…I mean, I was--we--damn.” He closed his eyes and opened them quickly, almost as if he couldn’t stand to look at what was behind his eyelids. And maybe he couldn’t. “She freaks me out, Will. And….Oz, I love Oz, god knows how much I love him, and he’s trying, he really is trying to understand. But maybe you can’t really understand unless you were there when she went…bad.” 

  
Oz and the Dingoes had been on tour when Faith made her own dark tour of Sunnydale, and hadn’t been around when ‘the incident’ had occurred. It wasn’t until Xander and Oz began dating and had been for a substantial amount of time that Xander had revealed that part of his past to his lover. 

  
Oz had definitely pulled through in the support department, as always. But deep inside, Willow knew that he could never understand what happened in the months that followed that night. And what had been required to even partially rebuild Xander’s damaged self. 

  
“Xander, we’re all gonna keep her away from you as much as possible while she’s here, and if she even tries anything, I will personally send her ass into the worst hell dimension I can find. And not feel one iota of guilt about it.” Willow said firmly, and watched as Xander turned to her with a glimmer of a smile. 

  
“Will. What about that whole do what you want, so long as you don’t hurt anybody deal?” 

  
“It wouldn’t be hurting her if she enjoyed it, right?” A wicked look flowed over Willow’s face, and her eyes darkened slightly as she laughed and the magic that infused through her veins rose. 

  
“Alright, Darth Will. I acquiesce. But, you really won’t let her near me, right?” 

  
“Damn right, right.” Willow said, and wrapped her arms around her best friend, holding on for all she was worth. 

  
*******

  
Buffy stalked down the sidewalk, anger rolling off of her body in thick waves. Spike easily kept pace beside her, wisely keeping silent as they headed for Weatherly Park and hopefully, a couple of vamps to beat into senselessness before they headed their separate ways. 

  
“Aren’t you pissed off at all?” Buffy said, not breaking her stride. 

  
Spike avidly remembered when Faith had pulled her body switching trick, and also how much he wished it had been Willow saying all that to him, and sensibly avoided mentioning it.

“Yeah.” 

  
“Then why aren’t you-” she stopped and threw her fist at him, and he ducked instinctively. He heard the meaty thud of fist hitting flesh and spun, his hand bringing out a stake and dusting the fledgling that had tried to sneak up on them. 

  
Spike bit back the sarcastic words that he wanted to fling at her as a dozen vampires surrounded them, all in fanged attack mode. He palmed a stake and scanned the scene quickly, much as he assumed Buffy had to be doing. 

  
Three older looking vamps, all male; four teenagers, definite newbies at the vamp game; and five Asian men, looked like brothers, in a martial arts stance. 

  
Spike headed for the brothers, and saw Buffy go for the teenagers. He threw his fist at the first guy, who dropped into a crouch, telegraphing his next move. Spike jumped, avoiding the leg that shot out at him, and kicked the vamp into two of his friends, knocking them into a pile. All fists and fangs, he let loose with a flurry of punches and kicks at the remaining two, dusting them before they had a chance to lay more than a few punches on him. 

  
Buffy faced the group of teenagers, tsking at their appearance. “What, did you all ASK to be turned? Wouldn’t want to waste those great Goth outfits, now would we?” Using her peripheral vision, she saw Spike taking care of the karate group, and the other vampires, which were, strangely, holding back from the fight and watching their techniques. Or just waiting their turn. Whatever. 

  
One of the girls, dressed slightly like Drusilla on her worst fashion days, snarled and came at her, claws out. Buffy shook her head and grabbed her, using the vamp’s own momentum to throw her to the ground. “Oh please. That was hardly worth the—hey! Hair!” she cried, as another vamp grabbed her by the hair and yanked. 

  
She stuck an elbow in his ribs and broke his hold. He stumbled back and she grabbed the front of his fishnet shirt and brought chest to stake. He dusted satisfactorily, and she turned, kicking out at the first girl who was coming at her again. She stumbled back and the Slayer followed, ramming the stake home and before the dust had cleared, turning to a new attack, two-fold this time. 

  
Buffy dropped to the ground and executed a move the gymnastic coach would have kissed her for, swinging her legs in a full 360 and knocking both vamps to the ground. She jumped on top of the female, grabbing her shoulder-length black hair and started slamming her head into the ground, screaming “Bitch! Bitch!” in time with the slams. 

  
Spike dusted the last of the karate kids and turned to scan the scene. His five gone, Buffy taken out two of the teens and was whaling on a third, the fourth had obviously fled after seeing the punishment inflicted on the last of her crew, and the three men, who were still standing back and watching. 

  
On second glance at the vamp underneath Buffy, Spike noticed she looked, well, not at all like Faith, but the hair and the outfit were close enough. Long, dark hair, leather pants, and a shirt that practically didn’t qualify. He winced a bit at the damage the fledgling was taking, then shook his head and turned to the quiet ones. 

  
“So you boys like to watch, eh? Well, I’m not much of a voyeur, so what say we make you an active audience tonight?” he asked. Not waiting for an answer, he punched the first one square in the face. Bones shattered, flesh tore, blood ran. And still the vampire watched Buffy. 

  
“Weird,” he muttered, entirely confused by the vampire’s actions, not to mention the other members of his gang still watching Buffy, not even making a move toward Spike. 

  
“Slayer, hello, Slayer, Buffy, lay off on ‘er for a minute.” 

  
Buffy swung partially around, and Spike managed to keep his jaw from dropping. Her blonde hair, her face, the entire front of her was coated in blood and thicker things. He could no longer make out any semblance of a face on the vampire beneath her. But what shocked him more than anything was the smile on her face. Buffy was enjoying this. Really enjoying it.

 “Bugger.” He said quietly, amazed. He didn’t think the Slayer had it in her. A smidgen of respect for the violence welled up in him before he beat it back down. Respect for the Slayer. What was he coming to? 

  
“What do you want, Spike?” she spat. 

  
“For you to focus on something other than pounding that fledge into pulp, for one thing. Stake her and get it over with, why don’t you.” 

  
“Huh?” Buffy said, then glanced down at the pile of mush she’d made of the vampire’s head. “Oh.” She staked, the slowly rose to her feet. “Got carried away. Where’d the other vamps go?” she asked, angling her head toward where the silent three had stood a moment before. 

  
Spike turned, and then swore colorfully enough to rival the dirtiest sailor. “Just go home and clean up, Slayer. I’d say the night’s already seen enough action.” He spun on his heel and headed toward his own home, where his red-haired goddess was waiting up for him. 

  
Buffy stood there for a moment, confused both at her actions and Spike’s words, and headed home. 

  
******* 

  
The club was nearly empty when Oz and Xander walked into the main area. Dashwoods was a popular, if not well known BDSM club in Sunnydale. They moved through the few people going about their own business on the way to the bar. 

  
The bartender came over to them. “Usual, guys?” she asked, glancing at Xander’s strained expression, her own face carefully schooled to neutral. Oz nodded and accepted the glasses, one filled with Chartreuse, the other Jack Daniels on the rocks, and handed one to Xander. 

  
Xander took a large gulp from his glass as Oz asked, “Are there any private rooms available?” 

  
The woman nodded, and handed Oz a key on a long black ribbon. “Do you want me to send someone up?” 

  
He thought for a moment, then said “Send up Raven.” The young woman he requested would be Xander’s whipping girl for an hour or so and maybe, release some of the tension the man felt at the return of Faith into their lives. 

  
Oz knew he could never completely understand how Xander felt about what happened with Faith, but he could love him, and give him everything he needed to deal with it. 

  
They headed upstairs, after Xander refilled his drink, and unlocked the door to their room to find Raven sitting on a bench in the center of the room, dressed in her outfit of the night, a black pleather skirt, no stockings, spike heels, and a black halter that tied at her waist and neck. 

  
Oz took a seat on the couch that lined one side of the room. “His choice of weapons, your choice of stopping it. What’s your safe word?” 

  
“Draco.” 

  
“Xander? Alright with you?” 

  
“Yes.” 

  
Oz settled back and watched the scene unfold. Xander set his drink down on the table, then walked over to the girl, still sitting on the bench. “Get up.” Raven complied, and he grabbed her wrists and moved her underneath a hook in the ceiling. He fastened her to the cuffs dangling from the chain, and adjusted it until she was swaying on the tips of her shoes. 

  
He walked over to the opposite wall and scanned the weapons available to him. He finally chose a thin flexible paddle. He smacked it against his hand a few times before going back over to Raven and quickly untying her top; tossing the material over the bench. Xander looked down at her breasts, fingering the ring in her left nipple before bringing the paddle down hard. She pulled instinctively away from the paddle, but couldn’t get away from it. 

  
Xander rained blows down on both her breasts, alternating between them, until they were black and purple, and tears were pouring down Raven’s cheeks, and she was breathing hard. 

  
“Did you like that?” 

  
Raven nodded. 

  
“Answer me, bitch!” Xander yelled, smacking her again. 

  
“Yes.” The girl said quietly.

  
Xander shook his head. He retreated to the wall again, setting the paddle down and picking up a short braided whip. He shook it out and cracked it in the air, smiling at the sound. “You won’t like this.” he said, striding back and looking at her smooth, pale back. 

  
He pulled his arm back and delivered the blow across the center of her back, leaving a bright red stripe and the beginnings of a welt. Raven strained forward and bit her lip, knowing it would get worse, and halfway wanting it to. 

  
And it did. Not pausing between blows now, Xander whipped her until welts covered her flesh from shoulder to waist and he was panting, not from any kind of desire, but from the release and he dropped the whip, his hands limp at his sides. 

  
Oz stood and walked over to the pair. He ran a gentle hand over Xander’s cheek and felt the tears there. Quickly he unfastened the chain and lowered Raven. He picked up her shirt and handed it to her with a whispered “Thank you” and she left the room. 

  
Then he turned back to Xander and wrapped strong arms around him. They sank down to the floor, one lost in a morass of pain, and the other a lifeline to get out of it. 


	2. “Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not everyone is happy to see Faith. Obviously. But Angel speaks. A lot.

_**October 21st** _

_**Wednesday afternoon** _

_**Angel Investigations Main Offices** _

  
Angel frowned at the familiar sound of heels rapidly clicking towards his office door, but didn’t remove his booted feet from the antique cherry wood desk in front of him. 

  
“Demon or not, Angel, that desk cost a fortune,” Cordelia snapped as she appeared in his doorway, obviously not happy. 

  
“Yes, and I believe I paid for it, so that gives me the right to put my feet on it, doesn’t it?” Endless bickering, always dancing around the real problem. 

  
“Fine. Destroy a centuries old piece of art. And you have a guest.” The brunette spat out the word with genuine dislike and Angel sighed. 

  
“She has a name, Cordy.” He said, sitting up and glancing out the door behind her. 

  
“And I’m too much of a lady to say what that name is, Angel.” In a definite huff, Cordelia spun on her four hundred-dollar Manolo Blahniks, also something that he’d paid for; and left without showing Faith into the office. 

  
He caught Faith’s eye and nodded her in. She shut the door and took a seat in the most uncomfortable seat in the room, a straight-backed wooden kitchen chair. 

  
“Faith,” he started, but she held up a hand, thinner and paler than he remembered from her stint in prison. 

  
“Please, Angel. Let me get this all out, first.” 

  
He nodded, and she took a deep breath and collected her thoughts. 

  
“I don’t know why you got me out, or how, I mean, according to the judge I wouldn’t be up for parole for another five years. And don’t mistake me, I’m grateful, I am, but Angel, for someone like me, freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose. And I don’t have anything left. No one who gives a damn about me.

Cordelia made it more than clear earlier that the quality of mercy is definitely strained around here. Wes couldn’t even look me in the eye. And I’m pretty damn sure you didn’t get me out just because you love the pleasure of my company. There’s got to be something big going on, and I just wanted to tell you that when it’s all over I’ll leave. I’ll go someplace and get lost, if that’s what it takes. I don’t want to screw up everybody’s life again.” 

  
She stopped, and met his eyes, and he was a little surprised by the stark honesty in them. She believed what she had said, and was determined to follow through on her words. 

  
Now all he had to do was change her mind. Or at least bend it a little bit. 

  
“Faith, you do have people that care about you. Me, for one. And I know I can’t make you believe it just by saying it, because actions speak louder than words, but I’m hoping you’ll believe it enough to trust at least me during the next month or so.” 

  
He went on to explain to her what was going on, as far as he knew, and about their trip to Sunnydale the next day. As he talked, he watched her soften a little, not a great deal, but enough so that he knew his words were making some impact. 

  
“Who, exactly, is ‘us’?” Faith asked when he stopped to let her take it all in. 

  
“The four directly involved are you, me, Willow and Spike. But the rest of the group will be there also.” 

  
“Including Xander.” Faith closed her eyes, and regret washed over her features. Angel winced inwardly, having heard the sordid tale from Willow shortly after it happened. He couldn’t even imagine how the man felt at hearing the news that the woman that had raped him and almost killed him at the same time was out of prison and coming back into all their lives. 

  
“Yes.” He spoke quietly, his tone empty, emotionless. 

  
“I know he hasn’t forgiven me. How could he? I don’t even expect him to. You don’t just forgive something like that.” 

  
“Faith, he’s happy now. He’s in a good solid relationship with a man that loves him, and he has a thriving business. You’re both going to have to deal with the repercussions of what happened.” 

  
The slayer sighed. “I understand that. I just don’t want to cause him – anyone -- any more pain.” 

  
“Pain is a part of life, Faith. And it’s going to happen. All we can do is work through it. And you won’t be there by yourself; I’ll be there with you the whole time.” 

  
Faith dropped her head, and Angel knew she was warring with emotions deep in her heart. Trust, anger, fear, pain, sorrow, regret. He’d dealt with all of them at one time or another, and was still dealing with them. All he could do now was be there for her. 

  
Finally she looked up, and he saw something in her eyes that vanished in an instant, and he doubted if he even saw it at all. And all she said was, “Okay.” But he wondered. And it was kind of scary, because if it was what he thought it was, he’d felt something in himself react sharply to whatever it was. 

  
************ 

  
It was close to nine, and the mall would be closing in two hours. Angel sat at a table in the food court and watched Faith devour a plateful of enchiladas covered in a spicy red sauce. For the last three hours, he’d watched her replenish a wardrobe that was meager before she went to prison. Cargo pants, t-shirts, underwear (he’d deemed not to watch her try on THAT particular article of clothing), all clothes a far cry from what she’d worn in the past. And shoes. She wasn’t nearly as bad as Cordelia when it came to making their final stop at the Shoe Tree. One single pair of Doc Martens that made him think of Spike, and how much time they’d be spending together soon; was all she chose. 

  
He shook the uncomfortable thought away as Faith finished her meal and dumped the Styrofoam container in the trash. “Good?” he asked, grinning at the way she’d devoured it. 

  
“You have no idea,” she replied, swinging her chair around and sitting in it backwards. He smiled at a glimmer of the old Faith. “Prison food sucks. I’m surprised I don’t look like a cow.” 

  
He chuckled. “Slayer metabolism.” His expression changed slightly, his face becoming more serious as they approached a topic they’d been dancing around since their earlier conversation in his office. Sunnydale. And the fact that they were going to be there in less than twenty-four short hours. 

  
“Are you going to be okay with all of this, Faith?” he asked, carefully scanning her expression. 

  
She sighed, and a mask fell over her features, one that he recognized, and didn’t really enjoy seeing. He’d thought they’d moved past that tonight, but once again, he was wrong. And his demon relished that fact more than he thought was possible. “Five by five, right? I pretty much have to be, at this point.” 

  
“No, you don’t, Faith. No one has to be okay with this, not you, me, anyone.” 

  
“What? We have to do this, so, ergo, we have to be okay with this.” Faith said, folding her arms across the top of the chair and fixing him with a look that dared him to disagree with her. 

  
Okay, he’d take that dare. Angelus rattled the chains that kept him locked down at the idea of Angel taking any dare that Faith offered. A wicked shiver ran through Angel at the strength of the thought and he fought it down, forcing his mind to focus on the topic at hand. “Dealing and being okay with a situation are two different things,” he started, leaning back in his own chair until it tilted onto the back legs. 

  
“I’m not okay with going back to Sunnydale and being thrust back into Buffy’s life after we’d agreed not to do that. But I have to, so I’m dealing with it. I don’t want to have to see her looking at me with those ‘looks’ she gives me, the ones that ask me silently whether or not I still love her and maybe we still have a shot at a decent relationship. But I deal with it. I keep dealing with it. Our paths are going to keep crossing, and she’s going to keep thinking that I still love her no matter what I do to inform her otherwise. But I don’t love her. Not anymore. I care about her, I care greatly. But she’s not number one anymore. She never will be again. And she can’t accept that. Her way of dealing is to keep hoping. Mine is to move on.” 

  
Faith stared and tried to keep her jaw from hitting the tiled floor beneath her. She’d known that Angel had loved Buffy deeply, thought that it was the only great love he’d ever had, or wanted. This came as a serious shock to her, and somewhere deep inside her private soul, something as a relief. Since Angel had ever been the only one that had tried to help her, wanted to help her, she’d developed something of a crush on the vampire, but she wasn’t pulling a Buffy. She knew that if they ended up having one, their relationship would never be perfect, could never make him perfectly happy. She knew he had some major issues in his past, Spike not the least of them, and she was cool with that. It wasn’t her business. Just like Buffy was none of hers. While she was in prison, she contemplated her and Angel getting together, and the picture she had in her mind of Buffy finding out amused her and scared her, in turns. She was by no means afraid of the blonde Slayer, but more afraid of what she might do, thinking that Faith had stolen Angel away from her. 

  
Yeah, B was definitely the Miss Do-Gooder out of the pair of them, but if Faith and Angel got together, her morals might take a backseat to her rage. And that just might be fun. 

  
A smile graced her features as she thought all this, and when Angel raised an eyebrow in silent question, she shook her head and got back to the matter at hand. 

  
“So, what time are we leaving for Sunnydale?” she asked, standing, letting him know that the previous subject was officially closed for the time being. 

  
Angel stood up too, starting to gather up the bags that sat at their feet. “Early tomorrow morning. You okay with that?” 

  
She picked up the rest of the bags and they walked from the mall into the outer parking garage toward Angel’s car. “I’m used to getting up early. And the sooner we get there and get this over with, the better, right?” 

  
He nodded. “I’ll load the bags and stuff up tonight so we don’t have to bother with it in the morning. Just leave yours by the door, ok?” 

  
“Cool.” Faith replied, stowing her armful of bags in the trunk and shutting it. She walked around to the passenger side and got in. When Angel started the car, a classical CD began to play and she grimaced. “God, you are old.” She said with a laugh. 

  
“Hey, Mozart was a precocious genius. You have to appreciate that.” Angel shot back, pulling out into the Los Angeles night and heading for home. 

  
“I’d rather appreciate Eminem,” she said, switching the stereo from CD to radio and scanning until she found her favorite radio station. As ‘White America’ blasted through the speakers, Angel winced horribly but said nothing, merely smiled as she leaned back and began to rap along with the popular artist. 


End file.
